Dante gazed at John's ethereal figure walking out of the shattering black dome with wide eyes, his heart racing. "What is… that?" he muttered, his voice trembling with fear and awe.
Artoxares stepped forward, his eyes fixed on John's crystal-like eye. "Good lord, what has he become?" he whispered, goosebumps rising on his skin.
"We should finish this quickly," Dante said, his voice low and urgent. "My nephew … he requires some attention."
Artoxares nodded, his grip on his axe tightening. "Let's end this in one go."
With a deep breath, Artoxares summoned a bright orange aura that enveloped his body, causing the surrounding snow to melt. "Fhuuuuuuuu," he exhaled, his muscles tense and ready for battle.
Dante followed suit, inhaling sharply as he tightened his grip on his sword. He focused all his energy into the weapon, the aura around it glowing with a fierce intensity.
With a roar, Artoxares charged forward, his axe raised high above his head. "BARBARIAN LORD'S AXE TECHNIQUE: FINAL FORM - YERIDNA'S FURYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" he bellowed, the aura around him shifting to that of a brawny woman.
Not to be outdone, Dante screamed as he launched into his own attack. "WORLD END SWORD ART: HEAVENS COLLAPSE!" he yelled, his aura flowing into his sword and slicing through the air like a hot knife through butter.
The two weapons clashed with a deafening sound, a blinding light exploding from the point of contact. The ground shook beneath their feet, the force of the impact knocking several soldiers off their feet.
As the light and smoke cleared, everyone on the battlefield turned their attention to the epicenter of the explosion. A massive mushroom cloud covered a 100-meter radius, and the stench of burning flesh filled the air.
Dante huffed and panted as he struggled to catch his breath, his left side blistered and burnt, the remnants of his once glorious armor in tatters, and his sword shattered into shards. Artoxares lay sprawled on the ground, his body torn apart and scattered in pieces.
"In the end, all my efforts have failed before you," Artoxares gasped, barely clinging to life.
Dante approached him, his eyes flickering with a mix of anger and pity. "You called this a failure?" he said, gesturing to his own burnt right side.
Artoxares let out a bitter laugh. "What use is a mere burn when I couldn't take you with me?" he said, wheezing with pain.
"You would have lost against the empire either way," Dante replied, unsheathing a knife and crouching beside Artoxares.
"Most likely, yes…" Artoxares admitted, "but this was the last chance we would have had to get our lands back. And who knows, had I managed to kill you, my troops could have won."
Dante shook his head, his expression hardening. "It isn't good to dream unrealistically. If you fail, you are left with nothing, as you can see for yourself now."
Without warning, Dante lunged forward, grabbing Artoxares by the throat and lifting him up in the air. Artoxares gasped and struggled, but Dante tightened his grip until the man's struggles ceased altogether.
Just as Dante was about to finish the job, the sound of a whistle pierced the air, causing him to pause. He loosened his grip slightly and turned his head, trying to locate the source of the sound.
That was when he saw it: Artoxares' body was convulsing in strange ways, flesh, and muscle sprouting from where his limbs had been torn away. The sound of cracking bones filled the air, and Dante stepped back, his eyes wide with horror.
"What is going on here?" he muttered, taking a few cautious steps back. Artoxares let out a guttural scream, his body contorting and growing larger, his eyes losing color and his teeth growing sharp and pointed.
"HUFF HUFF HUFF" the beast that used to be Artoxares huffed, as steam came out of its mouth, and looked towards Dante.
"Fuck" Dante cursed seeing that the situation had taken a turn for the worst."Wsheeeeet, STORMWINGGGGG" he whistled calling out to Stormwing, who was now eating up whatever remained of the barbarian chief's ride after their fight.
*SCREEEEECHHH* the wyvern screeched as he approached Dante, leaving its prey half-eaten.
Dante leaned heavily on Storm Wing's back, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Blood oozed from the wound in his side, staining his armor crimson. "Take me to John quick… cough," he croaked, his voice strained with pain.
Without hesitation, the wyvern sprang into action, its powerful wings beating against the air. But as they flew, Dante noticed something strange. A dark shape was following them, its grotesque form barely visible through the mist.
"Nicholas!" Dante shouted, his voice urgent. "Wrap your shit up quickly. Something is wrong with John, and I don't know what's happening to the barbarian chief's body, but it doesn't look very good."
Nicholas, who was standing holding Arvandus's half-dead body by the throat, "The fuck?" he exclaimed.
"Nonononononononooooo this can't be happening, our chief lost?" Arvandus screamed as his eyes lost all form of hope, for seeing the grand duke alive after the explosion only meant that the other was dead.
But Nicholas knew what he had to do. "I will be right there with you," he said to Dante, determination etched on his face. Without another word, he plunged his spear into Arvandus's chest, the metal tip piercing his heart. Blood gushed from the wound, spraying Nicholas with a warm, sticky shower of gore.
But just as Dante was about to reach John, he heard Oberon's voice in his ear, causing him to startle.
"You might not want to approach him so hastily," Oberon warned. Dante turned to see the faerie king perched on a nearby tree branch, his expression grave.
"Aghh- Good god, you scared me… fuuuuuh," Dante gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Where the fuck did you come from?"
"I have my ways…but that is not important now, is it?" Oberon replied cryptically, causing Dante to narrow his eyes.
"Right, why do you say I should not approach the boy right now? It is clear to me that he has lost his mind, so leaving him to his devices does not seem like a wise idea," Dante questioned.
"Trust me on this. While I am not sure if he has lost his mind or not, what I can say for certain is that he is in a dangerous state right now…for him and for us," Oberon warned with a nervous expression on his face.
Dante studied the old man's face for a moment before asking, "What do you say I should do then?"
Oberon nodded before starting to speak, "You-"
However, before he could finish his sentence, a loud roar interrupted him. They turned to see the barbarian chief leaping into the air, its body now fully transformed into a beastly form. The sight sent chills down Dante's spine.
"Don't bother me right now," Oberon said, annoyed by the interruption, as he turned his attention to the beast.
Moving his hands together, and turning them around as if drawing a circle, Oberon spoke,"{SHACKLES OF DEATH}." As he did so, a magic circle appeared in front of his palms, from which four spiked chains emerged, embedding themselves into the newly regenerated limbs of the beast.
The chains now fully extended, wrapped themselves tightly around the barbarian chief, slowly crushing the beast's body within their grip. The beast struggled and roared in pain, but the chains continued to tighten, leaving no gaps for it to escape.
"GHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH," the beast tried to resist, but the chains continued to tighten, and before anyone knew it, the beast's body was crushed into the size no bigger than a pineapple.
"Right as I was saying… leave him alone for now, don't let anything into his path, and let him tire himself out… at this pace, I'd say we have about 7 minutes before he runs out of energy," Oberon said, finally finishing his earlier sentence.
Dante was left speechless, staring at the crushed remains of the beast. "How do we stall… that?" he asked, his mind racing to devise a solution.
"Well, I haven't quite figured that out?" Oberon shook his head.
"I'll stall him. You figure out some way to stop him faster… in my current state, I give you 4 minutes tops," Dante said, his voice firm.
Oberon stood in silence, his eyes closed, and his mind seemingly lost in thought. Dante, feeling a sense of frustration, let out a deep exhale as he observed the figure of John, rampaging through the battlefield with ruthless abandon, slaughtering friend and foe alike. The sight was unbearable, and Dante could no longer stand by and watch as his loved one lost himself to madness.
He leapt off Stormwing, and charged towards John, screaming at the top of his lungs, "JOOOOOHHHNNN!"
John looked up, his attention caught by the sudden burst of noise. He saw Dante charging towards him, and as their weapons clashed, a wicked grin spread across his face. "Well, if it isn't my dear uncle," he said with a sneer. "Do you not have anything better to do, like finishing off the remnants of the barbarians?"
Dante pushed himself away from John, his face set with determination. "I have competent soldiers and generals to handle that. But you…this state of yours is dangerous. I don't know what's happened to you, but I'm here to stop you."
John's grin turned into a menacing scowl. "So you're here to take away what little time I have left to enjoy my freedom."
Dante was taken aback. "What are you talking about?"
his face twisted in anger, John said with a growl, "You leave me no choice."